Kiss With a Fist
by gingerbread11
Summary: A short Janto one shot based on the song 'Kiss With a Fist' by Florence and the Machine; set after Jack's return from the 'year that never was' at the beginning of series two and his reunion with Ianto.


**A/N:** _Hello! I am officially deleting 'Girl Put Your Records On' today, BUT I will be uploading all of the seperate stories from that fic as one shots. For those of you who didn't read it in GPYRO, it's based on the song 'Kiss With a Fist' and is about Jack's return after the year that never was at the beginning of series 2... hope you like it! Hannah xxx_

__NB: I am only going to say this once (it's too much effort to keep writing it!) as predicted I own nothing sadly, all characters etc are properties of the BBC and Russell and the gang and that beautiful ginge Florence.  
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><p>Toshiko Sato sat at her desk, attempting to decode the inscription on a weapon (a gun?) that they had wrestled from a rogue Slitheen about a week back, whilst trying to block out the low level hum of Owen and Gwen's incessant bickering. Yet again the two of them were arguing over something unimportant or non-work related, or perhaps Owen was taunting Gwen with a specimen from one of his extravagant experiments, or Gwen was winding Owen up about his ear piercing… Tosh really couldn't be bothered to tune in and find out exactly why the pair of them were at each other's throats for the third time this evening.<p>

It had been like this since Jack had left and over the past few months Toshiko has become quite used to it all. Accustomed now to the constant background noise of Gwen and Owen, no longer reigning in their little arguments or play fights without Jack's control, and to taking orders from Gwen who had assumed the role of the authoritative figure within the team… and to Ianto's constant withdrawn behaviour, his hiding out in the archives, his multiple day long periods of silence, and his refusal to admit that anything was wrong.

After the initial shock and horror that their esteemed Captain had run away, abandoning them things had just settled down into this foreign routine; they had needed someone to take control and Gwen had been the most capable, and after that decision was made everything else just fell into place around this new system. Personally, she was happy to take orders from Gwen, more than happy – she was a strong leader and brilliant under pressure – but she was fed up with the sight of her and Owen… especially of her and Owen together… even if they were only bickering…

And furthermore, she just didn't know how much longer she could carry on letting Ianto wander around aimlessly in this depressive state for. She'd tried talking to him about how he felt about everything – but he deflected, she had tried arranging things for them to do, film nights and pub quizzes etc. – but he made up excuses, she had tried asking him to take some time off – he had just rolled his eyes and walked back down to the archives. Out of the three of them remaining she was the closest of Ianto's friends, but still she was at a complete loss of how to help him short of bringing back Jack and that would be far easier said than done.

Toshiko looked up to the coffee station where the Welshman in question, who had temporarily left his hiding place, was stood preparing their drinks. Well, his hands were, his eyes and his mind seemed as though they were somewhere else she mused, sighing to herself as she continued with her work once more.

"Owen don't you dare come any closer to me with that… that… oh god! What the hell even is that!" Gwen shouted from behind the bar running around the edge of the autopsy bay, backing away from the ever nearing Owen who was currently wielding half the brain of a Slitheen. It was pale grey and dripping with the most foul smelling, green congealed plasma (?) and had been laying out in the open, unrefrigerated, for a good week.

"Oh come on Gwen! What's the harm in a bit of alien brains on a Friday evening? Definitely beats what you could go out and find in a nightclub down town." He grinned, rapidly moving closer, waving the mangled object right under her nose.

Gwen leapt back, recoiling at the smell of the article. "Owen that is disgusting put that in the bin NOW." She commanded, as calmly as she could in the face of a rather childish man holding such a thing with that simply mischievous look on his face.

"Is that an order boss?" He asked with mock seriousness.

"Oi! Shut it you! You wouldn't talk to Jack like that!" She said, trying to use her authoritative voice once more.

"Well that's irrelevant our Captain has abandoned ship" He said gravely, seeming to have found a sense of earnest for just a moment before returning to his normal self. "And besides, I totally would have. We had some brilliant battles in here, I remember this one time when I was dissecting that two headed Uranagon and he had that vat of Werewolf's blood and… well, the autopsy bay had never got in such a state" He grinned at the memory.

Gwen couldn't help but smile back, "Well I'll tell you one thing for certain: I am not Jack. And we'll be having no more of those shenanigans around here ok? So just put the bloody thing in the bin where it belongs!"

"I would but… well; I'm not sure where to put it. Does it go in with the general rubbish, or the recycling… or the food waste? He asked, barely managing to conceal a smirk.

Gwen simply rolled her eyes in response, and began moving back into the main atrium of the hub, bored of attempting to out run her way into being Owen's target. "Would you really want _that_ ending up as compost for your geraniums?" She asked, one eyebrow raised.

"I'm really more of a chrysanthemum man to be honest with you" He winked and quickly fired the rotting flesh towards the Welshwoman – but she was too quick, anticipated his movement and ducked below an unsuspecting Tosh's desk.

Toshiko grimaced as she removed the putrid organs from her lap and cursed Owen for not being a better shot as she attempted to rid herself of the slimy mess.

"Owen you are so paying my dry cleaning bill!" She exclaimed, pointedly gesturing towards her sodden skirt.

Owen simply stood agape, mouth wide open and eyes to match – unsure as to whether he should apologise or give into the laughter that was threatening to erupt from within. In the end he went with the choice that was least likely to result in his being beheaded.

"Look Tosh, I'm really sorry ok? I was aiming for Gwen but she bloody ducked!"

"Well what did you expect me to do, just stand there and get hit by that… thing!"

"Yes! That was what was supposed to happen!"

"Uuurgh" Tosh groaned, "Could one of you at least pass me a tissue to clean my hands off!"

Meanwhile Ianto Jones had finished making the coffees, which were now undoubtedly going to go cold due to the rather pressing distraction, and had been observing the whole affair. He'd seen the way that things were going, had known that Owen was always going to throw it because it was last thing on a Friday and he wanted entertainment – and in his eyes a shrieking girl, be it Gwen or Toshiko, was exactly that – and as soon as he had seen Gwen walking over near to Tosh's desk he had seen poor Tosh being set up in the firing line. Perhaps before he would have intervened, warned his best friend of the unpleasant surprise that was about to come her way, but they had all grown used to these sorts of occurrences over the last four months in their leaders absence and now he just didn't see the point of doing anything, if it didn't happen today it would happen tomorrow. The Welshman no longer saw the point of breaking things up, or of even clearing up the mess afterwards, he didn't even see the point of continuing to work anymore – he only did so out of habit and purely because he had not the faintest idea of what he might do to fill up his time instead –to be perfectly honest, the young man no longer saw the point of anything now that he was gone.

Jack had left him and nothing would be the same again, not ever. Every single inch of him ached for that man, and not just as a friend and as a lover, but as his boss too. They needed to once again find order amongst chaos, unite together as a team to fend of the world from alien threats instead of fighting each other; it was doing his head in. It was for this reason that he had kept himself hidden down in the archives for so long now, well partially for this reason, of course the other main and very pressing reason was because he couldn't bear to be up there for the moments when they weren't arguing, when things were back like old times… but with the absence of Jack…

It seemed very doubtful to him that he would shake this sense of empty hollowness, and sheer hurt that reverberated around his body, but even if he did, what would follow then? Ianto Jones couldn't see a way past these feelings, but he could just about cope with accepting that his life would now be dedicating to wallowing in grief for love that he probably never even truly had. What he couldn't cope with right now was those three, well Owen and Gwen mainly, he had just had enough. The Slitheen brain had well and truly broken the camel's back, and with that though Ianto left. Walked right out of the hub, without being officially dismissed by Gwen and without even delivering their coffees; he just needed to leave.

The walk back to his apartment in the bitter cold air of the autumn evening was altogether far too short, the cool air had temporarily cleared his head of conscious thoughts completely, making a nice change from the way his mind was usually plagued with troubles at present. But this sense of tranquillity and ease had begun to cease as he found himself walking towards the stairwell in his apartment block – at least the stairs may delay the inevitable a little longer than the lift he mused.

Approaching the familiar sight of the door to his flat, the young Welshman could already feel the mixture of sorrow and loneliness and purposelessness with a hint of rage, flooding back into his mind. But something wasn't right. The door wasn't locked. Ianto always locked his door, always; despite this being a relatively nice area of town and his confidence that he owned nothing in particular worth stealing, one could never be too careful these days, so each morning before he left for work the door was double checked. And this morning, like every other day, Ianto had no left until he was satisfied that that door was locked, so why on Earth was it open now?

The young man felt a lurch in his stomach as he delicately and silently pushed open the unsealed door, terrified as to who or what he may greet as he entered his own home and began wishing beyond belief that he had though to bring his pistol, or even just his stun gun, home with him from work – but he'd left in such a rush. Instead, he gripped a hold of the tennis racket that was lying next to his shoe rack just inside the entrance and prayed that it wouldn't break as easily as he had seen happen at Wimbledon. Tiptoeing surreptitiously, like a criminal in his own home, he made his way into the depths of the blacked out living room and noticed that there was a light on in the kitchen – Ianto Jones wasn't the type to leave a light on either.

Cursing himself as he heard the floorboard beneath him creek, he decided to drop the cautious act; if there was someone still in his home they would have heard that noise and if he didn't act quickly then they would gain the upper hand, so he charged into the kitchen.

"Hey, did ya miss me?" Said an impossibly familiar voice, through an impossibly familiar smile that radiated out from an impossibly familiar body that was sat drinking a scotch at Ianto's kitchen table.

The Welshman dropped the tennis racket to the floor, along with his jaw, in shock at the sight of the man in his kitchen who he hadn't seen hide nor hair of for nigh on four months, who had left without a word and not contacted them at all during his absence, and who now had just had the audacity to break into his home and help himself to Ianto's finest liquor. Under the circumstances, he replied to the American's question with the only words he felt suitable.

"What the hell! Jack! What the hell?" He half shouted.

"Aren't you pleased to see me?" Jack asked, grin still in place.

Ianto rolled his eyes, left the kitchen and flicked the living room light on, not understanding how he was capable of just coming back and acting as though nothing had happened, nothing had changed – that he hadn't broken his heart into a thousand pieces and messed with his mind in more ways than imaginable. He hated the fact that he was smiling that achingly beautiful grin of his; he didn't have the right to smile right now.

"Hey, I know I was gone a while but there's no need for that! I missed you!" He said walking into the sitting room after his favourite Welshman who he truly truly had missed, who had caused him to regret his decision to run away with his Doctor every single day of that year in which he was trapped in that infernal hell… but he had no idea how to convince Ianto that he meant that genuinely, or as to how to being explaining exactly where the hell he had been and why… let alone how he would ever begin to apologise and make it up to the man. He had however made one fatal flaw in his first attempts here: he was still grinning away like a Cheshire cat.

That was it, Ianto thought. He can't just stand there, acting like the prince of bloody everything, expecting me to embrace him with open arms and to believe that he even thought of me for one second when he took off gallivanting with that Doctor of his. It was too much. And before Ianto had fully had a chance to process his next action, his subconscious took a hold of him and his limbs were moving before he even realised. Faster than lightening he was striding over to meet Jack face to face, and his arm fist was reaching out to punch him right on that bloody mouth.

Jack stumbled backwards, taken by surprise at first. This had been only the second time that Ianto had ever punched him (which was fewer than Gwen or even Tosh had done, and far FAR fewer times than he's been right hooked by Owen) and he had been far from expecting that as his greeting. He held his hands up signalling an apology, but the young Welshman didn't stop there.

Ianto was fuelled up now, finally able to release his emotions – his anger and pain – towards the very man who had cause them and he just couldn't back down, so he went for a kick in the shin.

This time Jack did retaliate, he agreed that he had been thoroughly out of line leaving him like that without explanation, and perhaps it had been a little arrogant of him to just pick the lock on his door and waltz in expecting to find Ianto all smiles and delight… but he hadn't had any easy ride this past year and for as long as Ianto wasn't going to give him the chance to explain he would give as good as he got. So he punched the man square on in the nose.

Ianto winced with the pain, but wasn't prepared to relent yet, he shoved the American hard into the wall to the left of them.

Jack turned the tables on his opponent and struggled to flip them around so he was now pressing the younger man against the wall.

Knowing exactly how to use this position to his advantage, he had an older sister after all, Ianto bit down on one of the hands that was keeping him firmly locked in place allowing himself to wriggle free as Jack released him momentarily.

Jack however, having been engaged in more than the occasional brawl in a bar, recovered quickly – too quickly for Ianto – and caught his ankle with his foot just, causing him to trip to the floor.

Ianto, slightly winded from his fall, managed to gain enough sense of awareness to in turn kick his own foot around the back of his opponent's ankle, causing Jack to land with a crash beside him.

The two men lay there for less than half a second, panting and attempting to gain back their breath before Jack started from where Ianto had left off, climbing half on top of him and digging an elbow into his ribs.

Ianto rolled them both over so that he was now on top, knocking down the nearby side table and bringing the plate and mug that was resting on its surface to a shattering crash by his side, and leaning in to head-butt the American.

Jack momentarily clutched at his ringing head before flipping the pair of them over once again so that he was now on top, but instead of going in to knee him in a rather delicate area… he had a sudden change of heart and pulled the Welshman up to meet him and planted a rough an passionate kiss on his unexpectant lips.

Ianto broke the kiss almost immediately, pulling his head back, but then he eyed up the unbearably blue eyes above him filled with anger and sorrow and rage and love(?) just like his own, and breathed in once again that beautiful and unique scent of citrus and nutmeg and… Jack, and pulled him back down into that kiss.

The pair didn't break away for what seemed like hours, which they both supposed it might have been seeing as uncharacteristically Ianto had neglected to change the batteries in the living room clock and neither of them was wearing a watch. They'd been engrossed in a heat of desire that had stirred amongst the two of them simultaneously as they had ended their rather childish but necessary violent fight, and had now begun a very different battle – one for dominance as their tongues fought each other. They may well not have broken away if it wasn't for the fact that hardwood floors are mightily uncomfortable and both of them already had mild bruises forming.

"That wasn't quite the reception I anticipated" Jack laughed, helping up his companion.

"Sorry… I don't quite; I don't really know what happened… I just, all of this emotion started boiling up… and I hadn't expected to ever see you again and… well you had left and torn my whole life apart… and then you were there and acting like you always do Captain bloody Charisma and… I really am sorry but well seriously though Jack – what the hell!" He rambled through.

Jack laughed once more, a slightly sadder laugh now that the realisation of just how much he had messed with Ianto's mind through his disappearance began to settle in place. "I'm sorry" He whispered. "But, after that display, I could very well ask you the same question!"

Ianto rolled his eyes.

"It's a long story" Jack offered, sighing a little.

"Well, we have all evening" Ianto smiled, reaching over to touch Jack's split lip gently "But first… I think we should probably clean ourselves up a bit!"


End file.
